Lines of Fellow Travelers
by Trynia Merin
Summary: The Third Doctor must rush to find the source of a mysterious disease endangering Sarah Jane, and strangely enough Harry Sullivan ends up along for the ride! A What if, AU...R and R please!
1. Chapter 1

The Lines of Fellow Travelers

By Trynia Merin

I don't own Dr. Who, the BBC does. This story is sort of an alternate scenario. with the Third Doctor encoutering Harry Sullivan as a companion, instead of having him join the TARDIS crew when he did. Also, Sarah Jane is naturally in this story. I wrote this a while ago, and this is the story that leads up to what I posted mistakenly under the Fourth Doctor.

Prologue 1

"Now for the science report... Geologists at Cambridge have found the strange rocks recovered from the Antarctic research station are in fact pieces of a meteorite, its original origin yet to be determined." 

Inside the small kitchen, a portable silver transistor radio blared the noon news. However, the slim dark haired woman bustling about in the adjoining dining room only listened with one ear. "Just where did I put my camera?" she wondered, placing her hands on her hips.

"The Palfrey food processing plant has announced that they will be adding a new and improved preservative to some of their main products. Health services expert Richard Kowalski says that tests show no apparent risk to potential customers."

Sarah Jane Smith found her black 35-mm camera, and thrust it into her bag with a flourish of triumph. "Ten minutes, and we'll see if your report's bunk or not, Kowalski," she said, looking at her watch. 

"Weather today should be mild, with occasional showers, so don't put away those brollys yet, you Londoners!" quipped the weatherman on the BBC radio. 

"Good day to you too," smiled Sarah Jane smugly as she switched the radio off with a sharp click. Putting on her favorite white sweater and matching hat, she shouldered her leather travel bag. She had her suspicions about this food additive that supposedly enabled Palfrey's prepackaged snacks to remain fresh far beyond the average shelf life.

Out the front door she went from her South Croydon apartment. Normally, Sarah Jane didn't write many articles concerning technology, but covering this story would pay off well. A journalist took the best offers nowadays. "At least it's not the `woman's angle' stuff I've been doing for the past few months," she told herself as she climbed into her orange convertible. Still as she drove away from South Croydon, Sarah Jane couldn't help but think of the space rocks. Since her aunt Lavinia was a well-known virologist, she'd always kept an interest in research science.

***

BEEP! BEEP! BEEEP!++

"This is BBC-1 radio broadcasting station. It is presently three o'clock post meridian time. And now for a news update."

A tall white haired fellow paced the floor of his science lab. Trestle tables loaded with a mess of scientific equipment, both old and ultra modern, lined the whitewashed brick walls. "Oh how dreadfully irritating!" he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with one large hand. "Why the deuce won't they give me a sample to test?" With arms folded across the chest of his velvet smoking jacket, he listed pensively.

"Presently, researchers at Oxford have found that the samples of meteorite contain amino acids of a protein not common on earth. It is thought that this news could refute the theory that life on Earth arose from constant heavy bombardment of meteors. However, Professor Stephenson of life sciences department refuses to let any further investigations or information to be released," answered the radio.

"The idiot!" exclaimed the Doctor crossly, directing his frustration at the indifferent radio. "He doesn't know what he's getting into! Confounded bureaucracy every time!"

*** 

Chapter 1

She felt a dizziness swell into her forehead. Sarah Jane blinked, trying to force the headache away. There was still so much to do today, and the freelance journalist wasn't about to let a simple pain in the head stop her from securing this story.

"What did you say was the source of this food additive, again?" she asked the man seated behind the modern desk.

Sarah stood among other journalists and reporters, all scrambling for an interview at the press conference. The orange walled office galled her eyes, not to mention the whirring clicks and flashes of cameras assaulted her brain. Still, she struggled on.

"That question, Miss Smith is a trade secret, I'm afraid," answered the official patiently. He calmly pushed his horn rims up onto his nose and withstood the onslaught of questions.

"Can you at least give our readers an idea of what this additive is like in its raw form?" asked a reporter from the Daily Mirror, tentatively.

"What I can say is that the additive is a relatively new development. It's a sort of protein supplement as well as a remarkable preservant. The company calls it Amnocine."

"Who discovered and developed this additive?" asked Sarah.

"Amnocine was researched by a team from Cambridge, with some chaps from the states. Quite a few good men and women."

Sarah again stared at the handwriting on her lined notebook. Words seemed to smear together. Her mind drifted back to earlier that afternoon. She herself had tried to see some of those researchers at Oxford's space geology department, to hopefully write another story about the space rocks with amino acid inside them. However, the fellow at the front desk brusquely whisked her out the door with a curt "Top secret! No nosy reporters allowed!"

This might have meant a news leak, but Sarah began to smell a big coverup. That's when she'd gone to UNIT. Before an almost uninterested Brigadier she'd spilled her suspicions about the space rocks, only to be politely reminded that UNIT had more important concerns. 

In a last effort, she went to see the Scientific Advisor. Sometimes in the past she'd given him information he couldn't get normally. But like most times, he'd already been to Oxford himself, and only half hearkened to her story. "That fellow always thinks one step ahead of me," she'd muttered. Preoccupied with the Amnocine program. Yet he suspected a connection between Amnocine and the research block on the space rocks. "How typical," giggled Sarah. "What possible connection could there be?"

"Mizz Smith.. arg u elll?" broke in a voice. Reporter Johnson of Science Digest sat at her side, voices low and garbled. "I say, are you well?"

Blinking, the journalist shook her head. "I think so. Just slipped away for a moment," she managed to say. "Will you excuse me?" Slowly she rose from her folding chair, crossing the rocky unstable floor. Once in the ladies room, she splashed her face with cold water, and tried to brush her dark hair. "Awfully pale," she muttered, noting her complexion in the vanity mirror. Indeed her smooth young skin was white and drawn, as if she hadn't slept in two days. Her hand fumbled in her purse for powder, but instead found a strangely shaped object. To Sarah's astonishment, she held a gray rock glistening with a horrifyingly familiar fungi. 

"If the amino acid hits oxygen, Lord knows what would happen. That's the reason for the vacuum case."

Some of the substance already had migrated to her hand. A stinging burn shot up her nerves. "One... of the space rocks, in my bag," she gasped. 

To the surprise of people in the hallway, a dark haired slender woman blundered from the restroom and collapsed face down on the hard tile floor. Phrases like, "Check her pulse," and "Let her get some air," echoed in Sarah's ears as she slid into blackness.

***

The Doctor's debonair features hardened into concern as he studied Sarah's couched form on the hospital bed. Her pulse throbbed faintly in her thin cold wrist. He saw her skin take on a glossy, almost glassy sheen. With him in the sterile white room stood other physicians, babbling with confusion. "It's like nothing I've ever dealt with before," sighed Dr. Buchanan, the reputable medical doctor from UNIT said. "Bally confusing. That's why I figured I'd call you in, Doc. you seen anything like it."

"May I borrow your stethoscope, sir?" the Doctor requested. The civilian physician, Dr. John Davis, stared indignant as the tall Doctor snatched his stethoscope and pushed past him to examine Sarah. "Who does this crank think he is, taking over my patient?" he demanded.

"You called UNIT in," Harry Sullivan shrugged. "So don't go complaining to me. After all, I only want what's best for the old girl!"

"Do be quiet a minute old chap," muttered the Doctor, waving him away. "I'm trying to hear a heartbeat."

The physician felt Leftenant Sullivan's hand on his arm. "Don't worry, John," he whispered. "This chap knows what he's doing. Brigadier Lethbridge Stuart vouches for him, and so do I."

"Well, if he's such an expert, will he mind telling me if this malady is known to science?"

"Unfortunately I've seen this illness before," admitted the Doctor as he listened with the borrowed stethoscope.

"What on Earth is it then?" demanded the indignant physician.

"Not on Earth," corrected the Doctor. "In fact this disease is a unique form of silicon poisoning. Some of the protein ribosomes in her skin cells are making a deadly surrogate protein, and somehow silicon is being put in place of the base carbon."

"That's ridiculous!" interrupted Dr. Reichardt. "Where would the silicon come from?"

"The organism transferred enough from the space rock while she was holding it."

"And why, pray tell did she suffer headaches before? Stress?"

"Not exactly old chap. Airborne spores from the organism already infected her skin, but the rock accelerated the process."

Sullivan ran a hand through his short dark hair, his hat hanging on the coat rack hair. "What do we do, Doctor?" he asked, as calmly as if she'd always suspected the unknown. 

"Well," began the Doctor, rubbing his nose. "There may be a way, but it might take time, and that's a resource Sarah has precious little of at hand."

"Are you going to stand here and listen to this quack?" asked the annoyed physician, Dr. John Davis. 

"In the meantime, what can we do?" asked Sullivan. 

"Unless you have a BETTER suggestion," the Doctor snorted, shaking his head as he looked at Harry.

"I'd listen to him. He's brilliant," said Harry.

"Good man. I suggest skin grafts for the afflicted areas, and immediate infusions of human amino acids," finished the Doctor, straightening up.

Taking one last look at Sarah, the Doctor carefully pulled the blanket up around her chin. Facing Dr. Buchanan, he shook her hand. "I leave her in the care of you and your capable colleagues," he said. 

"Ahem," coughed the other physician. 

"OH, here you are sir," said the Doctor, handing back the stethoscope to him. Reaching for his long scarf and coat, the Doctor smiled reassuringly at the astonished group of physicians before exiting. "I'll let you all know the instant I have a cure in sight."

"How comforting," sniffed the physician. "I don't believe the nerve of that crank, barging in here and monopolizing the place! Airborne spores in space rocks, absolute rubbish!"

"If he doesn't know what's going on, then I doubt if anyone else will."

"What does the chap do? Write science fiction?"

"He is a doctor, and UNIT's Scientific Advisor,"

said Dr. Buchanan. "Smith... or is it Jones?"

"Doctor of what? Doctor who? Who the blazes is he?"

*** 

"Bessie" streaked down the M-1 in overdrive, at nearly one hundred miles an hour. Speed was imperative, and the sprightly yellow roadster had plenty to spare. The Doctor's mind raced at a far greater velocity than the cars flashing past him on the highway. Just where had he seen the protein before? Groping for an answer, his lips mouthed silent words. Zwomph, rrush... zwomph rrnnn! Whistling wind blended with the Doppler shift wine of oncoming traffic. His own hands and feet moved instinctively on "Bessie's" pedals and steering wheel; she knew where to go.

***

Back at UNIT HQ, Sergeant Benton stood smartly as he issued orders to his squad of privates. One barked order from him, and they all marched neatly away in two columns. As the hefty handsome Benton began to follow, a tall theatrical figure with a black cloak streaming behind brushed past him. "Good afternoon, Doc," said Benton politely. His military courtesy was met with a gruff, "Excuse me please, in quite a hurry now," as the Doctor disappeared down the hallway. "Must be in one of his scientific thinks," Benton assumed, scratching his short hair under his green beret.

Not wasting a single moment, The Doctor hastily gathered up his field equipment. Test tubes, slides, particle analyzer, along with some electronic spares and protein samples clink clanked together in his bag. "What else, what else," he pondered, rubbing his long fingers together in irritation. 

"Aha! Yes," he cried suddenly with a snap of his fingers. "Interstitial molecular locator." Pawing through a number of devices in a cardboard box, he extracted one particular gizmo. He blew the dust off, wrinkling his face in an effort to stifle a sneeze.

A resounding "Aaachoo!" shook the lab.

"Bless you, Doctor," spoke a familiar voice from behind him. An exasperated Doctor turned to find Brigadier Lethbrige-Stuart standing in the doorway.

"Brigadier! You nearly took one hundred years off my life sneaking in here without knocking like that!"

"Sorry about catching you unawares," apologized the Brigadier with a slight smile under his moustache. "But there's been a problem with red tape at Oxford... space research... about those space rocks."

"Not just that, but a great deal more," broke in the Doctor. "Brigadier, you must put a halt to those idiots at that food processing company!"

"My blokes are right onto it, but I need you to explain just why."

"Not this time, I'm afraid, Lethbrige-Stuart."

Spotting the Doctor's familiar black bag in his hand, the Brigadier said accusingly, "Not another one of your little trips again, Doctor."

"My dear Brigadier, this is not just another `little trip'!" snapped The Doctor. "The fate of your entire world depends on my next `excursion'!"

"Very well Doctor," sighed the Brigadier. "But do be careful, and don't hang about. Don't go rocketing off to Jupiter or somewhere else by mistake."

The Doctor released his tense breath. "Not to worry, old chap. The TARDIS may be getting on a bit, but she's still a few surprises left in her." Producing a strangely shaped key from his vest pocket, he unlocked the door to his "police box". 

"Good luck, Doctor," said the Brigadier solemnly. Taking one last look at his lab, The Doctor slipped inside the oblong blue cabinet of his TARDIS. Soon the lab vibrated with the groaning wheeze characteristic of dematerialization. For a moment, the Brigadier watched as it blinked in and out of existence. "Be back soon, Doctor," he muttered.

***

However the Doctor had another destination in mind first. He turned the TARDIS controls to a quick hop. If those Gallifreyan idiots could see the tight control he had since they had yielded his dematerialization circuit, what would they say? Perhaps their usual flippant remarks, the Doctor muttered to himself.

As he materialized he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He'd known Sarah Jane Smith such a short time, and yet she had time and again shown she was far more stronger then the usual "fairer sex" on this planet. How long had it been since Jo Grant and Liz Shaw had been working alongside of him? He'd underestimated both in some way, and earth females never ceased to amaze him.

Sarah Jane Smith was no exception. The Doctor resolved that he owed her his life a few times. Especially when she'd blundered into his investigation and ended up winning the trust of medieval lords and ladies, to help defeat Lynx, the Sontaran castaway. In the few months they had come to know one another, he grudgingly admitted the spirited journalist was someone he could trust, nosy though she could be. The irritation had soon evolved into respect, and a warm affection. On their last trip, to Peladon she'd even shown the depths of her loyalty, which quickly resembled Jo's. It was something the Doctor missed more then he was willing to admit. Someone to admire him, and someone with whom he could share his desire to explore alien worlds.

Even though he owed the brigadier much, he felt the need to disassociate his ties with the place of his former exile with each passing day. Perhaps she would be amenable to joining him on longer jaunts. After all, she had no ties to this world save her aunt Lavinia, who was pushing her out into the world, which Sarah groused about but didn't mind in the least. 

But before she could, he'd have to repay an old debt. And he couldn't leave her in the care of these idiots on Earth, even if they DID listen to him or not. Opening the door he tiptoed into the hospital room, seeing Sarah Jane lying on her hospital bed fast asleep. Sullivan had been true to his word, and she had several inches of skin grafted to the affected sides of her face and arms.

He approached closer, wondering how to best transport her into the TARDIS. He couldn't very well leave her here, and he needed to get her inside without arousing suspicion. Leaning over her, he patted her hand and whispered softly, "Sarah Jane? Sarah, can you hear me, it's the doctor."

She moaned softly, her attractive black lashes fluttering as she tossed her head in a fevered dream. "No. nnno. gerrof. let me go. you stupid mediaeval. ohhhhh this can't be."

"Sarah Jane, it's the Doctor." he whispered, gently stroking her hair out of her face as he would have done if it were Jo. It was a reflexive response, and he felt a chuckle come to his lips. Although he sorely missed Jo, Sarah Jane was rapidly becoming someone with whom he could share his odd journeys. Even if she WAS in the habit of not listening to him. just like Jo.

"No. Doctor. watch out. the monster." Sarah gasped, and suddenly jolted awake, her arms flailing as she sought to fend off whatever danger haunted her dreams.

"Sarah Jane, it's me, it's all right," the Doctor shushed her as he gently held her down on the bed, and put a hand over her mouth to quiet her. She blinked up at him, her vision blurry as she felt his hands restraining her. The kindly face under the shock of gray hair and the ruffled blue shirt swam into focus, and she saw his eyes gazing down at her in concern.

"Doctor. where am I. I feel so muzzy," Sarah groaned.

"Shh, you have to relax. I've come to take you away from all this, to coin a phrase. Your life is in grave danger, and you must come with me in the TARDIS now."

"Why what.. What's happened to me. I felt my hand brush against some odd space rock and. am I in hospital." she gasped. "What do you MEAN my life is in grave danger."

He sighed as she clutched his arm, her dark eyes demanding an explanation. "Sarah, you have to pull yourself together and get up. We have to leave now before they discover they've mislaid you. or we'll be in a spot of bother."

"What do you mean in trouble?" she asked. "Some alien plague? My arm. what happened. I feel so strange."

"If you can't stand up, I'll help you," the Doctor said as he slid his arm behind her back. "but we MUST leave now. I have to take you with me. You're suffering from silitoxis, a rare disease by which the carbon atoms in your body are being replaced with silicon. in a matter of hours you'll be solid rock if we don't find a cure. And we can't find it here on earth."

"Surely you must be joking." she said with a small smile. But the look in the doctor's eyes told her he was dead serious.

"No Sarah Jane, you and I have to go on a journey. I've developed a chemical antidote for now, to halt the progress of the virus. but it is only temporary." he said, sliding up her sleeve as he produced a vaccine gun from his pocket. Sarah saw him press it to her wrist. "This will only pinch a bit."

"Just WHERE did this come from? The rock I touched?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded as he pressed the trigger. "And now we must be off."

"So you and I are just going to waltz off in the TARDIS and go in search of a cure that is on some alien planet?" Sarah laughed, shaking her head, which throbbed. "You're joking."

"I wish I was." he said as he held out his hand. "Now, try and sit up, and see if you feel well enough to walk."

"All right. but where are we going. or when?" Sarah asked, with the same confusion. Was this some odd dream in her fever-induced state? She knew the Doctor was someone she could trust with her life, but it seemed odd that he insisted she go with him. She pulled aside the covers and the Doctor held up a robe and draped it around her shoulders. He averted his gaze in a gentlemanly manner that made her chuckle, and she tied the belt of the gown around her.

"The source of the disease," the Doctor said as he clutched her hand and she stood up on shaky feet. 

"Whoops now," she gasped as the floor rocked under her bare feet and she landed againsd the doctor. He steadied her against his tall lean body and gently slid an arm around her waist.

"All right now." he said softly. "Let's get you into the TARDIS."

"Wait just a minute, pins and needles," Sarah griped as she stumbled next to him. His hand steadied her, and his body, a bit cooler then humans. she knew he was a time lord, but his touch was like ice!

A gentle knock came at the door, and the Doctor mumbled, "No time, if you'll allow me, Sarah Jane."

She gasped in surprise as he slid his hand under her knee and lifted her effortlessly into his arms to carry her toward the TARDIS. "Hang about. what's all this?" she laughed, her face twisting in a frown of irritation. 

"WE have no time for games," the Doctor mumbled as he carried her qu8ckly over to the TARDIS in the corner, and struggled to unlock the door with his arms full of Sarah. She turned to hear the click of the door opening, and felt the Doctor's arm move as he unlocked the TARDIS door, and pushed it open with his foot. Turning to one side, he was about to carry her inside.

"Here now, what are you playing at?" demanded a cheerful voice, as Leftenant Sullivan pushed open the door.

"Oh good grief," the Doctor mumbled as he was stuck there, holding Sarah in his arms, and propping the door open with his foot.

"Just WHAT do you think you're doing!" Harry Sullivan shouted. "that's my patient!"

"Harry Sullivan, I have NO time to explain!" the Doctor snapped as he stepped into the TARDIS, carrying Sarah.

"Wait a minute we can't just." Sarah protested as he carried her into the TARDIS control room and set her down on a Louis IV chair that was to one side of the console. In his haste he forgot to close the door as he slid the test tube into the TARDIS Scanner, and reached for the door controls.

"You can't just play games Doctor!" shouted Sullivan as he barged into the TARDIS door, which was closing. 

"Doctor stop!" shouted Sarah as she pointed, and Harry was jammed in a rather undignified pose between the doors.

"Great balls of fire, what a nuisance"! the Doctor slapped the console. 

"Good lord." Sullivan gasped as he saw that his upper half was jammed between large massive doors, and the inside of what would have been a small blue box was in fact a bright and massive control room.

"You can't just let him stay there!" Sarah shook her head.

"Honestly," the doctor mumbled as he opened the door controls. Sullivan gasped as he stood there shakily, and the Doctor grabbed him and pulled him in as they heard other voices in the hall.

"Doctor, what is going on?" Sullivan gasped as the Doctor hauled him in and the doors shut behind them. "I demand to know what's happening. and where Miss smith is."

The Doctor felt him struggling, and Harry actually managed to twist out of his grasp.

"I've got NO time to explain," the Doctor snapped. 

"this must be an illusion that's it."

"Harry, don't be an idiot!" Sarah said, as she tried to get up out of the seat, but felt her head spinning. She grabbed the console for support as the Doctor turned to try to steady her.

"Sarah, don't get up, you're not well enough!"

"You have FIVE minutes to explain what this joke's about or else." Sullivan shouted, totally confused and disoriented as he took a step toward the Doctor.

"HAI!" the Doctor shouted, and before he knew it the navy surgeon felt two fingers jam into his neck, and his body stopped rigid before the Scientific Advisor's touch. He gurgled, gasping as he was pinioned there.

"Doctor!" Sarah cried. "Was THAT really necessary?"

"He'll be QUITE all right, as you well know," the Doctor mumbled as he caught the falling body and lay Sullivan gently on the floor. "He'll only be unconscious for a bit. Long enough for us to get to where we need to go. why did he have to put his foot in!"

"Can't we simply put him back?" Sarah asked.

"I've put you in quite enough double as it is," the Doctor mumbled. "And the last thing I need are a bunch of hamfisted bunglers asking a lot of fool questions."

Crossing over to the console he depressed some levers, and pulled back on the dematerialization circuit. A wheezing groan shuddered the whole room, and he steadied Sarah against him as he helped her to sit in the chair again.

"What do we do with him?" Sarah shook her head. "He's going to be AWFULLY confused!"

"Well, I suppose he MAY be of some use." the Doctor sighed. "but I can't very well have him causing any more problems. And you don't look so well. perhaps you should have a lie down."

"Doctor, I feel well enough," Sarah shook her head, and moved to stand up on shaky feet. She didn't like being treated like glass, and the Doctor's patronizing bothered her immensely at times like this.

"I insist." the Doctor said as he helped steady her again, and she fell into his arms briefly. She shook her head as she glanced over his shoulder to see the central column rising and falling, and behind it, Harry's legs as he lay there on the floor. Sighing she let the Doctor picked her up again and carried her into the other maze o the TARDIS rooms. His hands under her knees and back were cold, but he did not struggle with her weight at all. While she was a rather slender thing, she had one or two unfavorable times when someone had picked her up before. and dropped her!

"Mind you, don't BANG my head!" Sarah griped as she clung to the doctor's cloaked shoulder.

"Sarah Jane, just shush for a moment." he mumbled. "I think Jo's room will do."

"But Sullivan."

"I'll tend to him when you're settled," he said as he nudged a door to the size of the gleaming corridor open, and neatly turned to one side to avoid banging Sarah's head or feet on the doorframe. She saw the lights flare on automatically, and saw the room she had glimpsed once or twice. There were posters of the Who and the Beatles on the walls of the small cozy room. A sofa bed had been folded out of the wall, and he carried her over to lay her gently on it and pull a few blankets over her.

"There's no need," she protested. "I'm feeling fine. your concoction worked!"

"Only for a time." the Doctor said as he felt her forehead and pulled the covers just under her chin. She felt his cool hand press to her forehead, while his other gripped her wrist to feel her pulse. Sarah saw the grimness in his features, though he tried to mask them with a tight smile. As she glanced impatiently around him she saw the bed was near a Victorian style dresser with large mirror. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of her face and let out a cry.

"What's. happening. to me."

"Shhh steady on Sarah Jane," he urged, smoothing her hair out of her face. "I told you, it was sillitoxis. But don't you worry. Just try and relax. and rest."

"why didn't you TELL me it was this serious. my face.." she gasped as she craned her neck around his body to see her reflection. Skin grafts covered the area of her wrists and arm, and the left half of her face, which were swathed in bandages. Like something out of a Hammer flick, she thought as her blood ran cold. Her chin wobbled and the Doctor shook his head as he held her gently to the bed.

"That's what I tried to tell you," he shushed her. "I'm going to find the source of the disease, and you'll be all right. But you MUST stay calm. Why did you think I brought you with me?"

"You're usually trying to get RID of me," she mumbled as he kept her from rising again, and waved his hand over the illumination panel to dim the lights.

"Nonsense, Sarah Jane. That was before I realized. I rather got used to having you about," he said with a slight laugh. "And besides, aren't you my assistant?"

"Hey, that's right," she laughed weakly, realizing he'd given her that designation during the business with the dinosaurs. 

"Can't have my newest assistant suddenly taken ill and left in the hands of twentieth century idiocy."

"Here now, it's not THAT backward!" Sarah snapped, her old defiance showing.

"Go to sleep. I'll wake you when we're there," he said.

"Right," she mumbled, as she turned on her side. "Knowing YOU you'll leave me IN here and nip off and have all the fun.."

"Rest well, Sarah Jane," the Doctor said as he adjusted the pillows under her neck, and again brushed her hair from her cheek. Was it her imagination or did his touch seem a bit more delicate that usual?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sloping cliffs bathed in blue light rose high into an ultramarine sky. The sharp double shadows cast over a flat field of rocks near the angular structures of the fortress. Stumbling geoagricults gathered the day's crop of the specially bred lichens. Some overturned the flat rocks with gloved hands to scrape off the thin layer of greenish sparkling lichen. Clang, smash, crrack! Alongside them, others smashed open the rocks with heavily weighted mallets.

Other such flat places, which were rare in the mountainous world, hosted far more traditional farmers. Elmira Judd drew in a sigh, scratching a furrow into the gravelly soil with her hoe. The improvised tool did its job well, considering it was only a sharpened scrap of steel. On her head she wore a broad brimmed straw hat that shaded her eyes from the intense sunlight. Her faded denim overalls were patched many times. Wearing much the same clothes were her husband and two older sons. All pushed their straw hats more firmly on their heads. Marvin, her husband, painstakingly examined the frail green shoots coming up from between the sharp rocks in the adjoining field. 

"I can't believe it," he whispered. His tired blue eyes 

drank in the skimpy flora. "At last the cover crop's taken root." Reddish whiskers of his beard glistened in droplets of sweat. 

"Must be the first scrap of real plant life on this rock pile Pa," grumbled Jethro, the elder son. "Three tries already, and this is the first time." His flaxen bangs stuck out from beneath his hat. His own sunburned face was not as whiskered as his dad's.

"Why the heck couldn't we have set claim on the fourth planet?" wondered Gerry, the darker haired younger son as he came up to join them. "I hear from the Mayers that the land there is much richer."

"That world's protected by galactic law, that's why," answered their mother, Elmira, stiffly. She came from up the lower field, having finished her hoeing. 

"Son, I've told you millions of times that we must uphold the laws. Without them, we'd be no better than the savages on the Fourth Planet," Marvin reminded him.

"Would you like living on a planet where volcanoes erupted every minute," asked Gerry, leaning on his shovel. "And where red natives lived behind every rock?"

"Seems like we get the same kind of thing here," muttered Jethro.

"The Regiment protects us, anyway," said Gerry.

"What protection?" smirked Jethro. "Ever since we came crawling here there've been nothing but more attacks on our homesteads and destruction of our stores!"

"What if we grew the fungi lichen like those geoagricults?" suggested Gerry.

"NO! I won't grow that blasted rock slime! Your grandfather died when eating the processed sludge made from it, in a stinking geriatric home in the filthy city." snapped Marvin furiously. "He farmed the land of Iowa, living off God's bounty. We are farmers, not food additive vendors who dance to the jingle of credits."

"You know Pa, its crazy how the geoagricults aren't scared like us," pondered Jethro. "They don't get attacked as much as our people do."

"You see, the Regiment likes the geoagricults better. And provides them with better protection." said Gerry. "Told you so."

"It's all a dumb hoax, I say," insisted Jethro.

"Look what your hoax did to the Pennys last week," said Elmira. "Pipe down you two! Here comes the overseer!"

"What do they care anyway?" wondered Jethro. "What we think is none of their beeswax!"

"As long as their leader lets us farm here after we limped countless miles to this place, we have to keep the peace." ordered Marvin. "Now skeddadle back to your chores. Vamoose!"

Both sons returned to their patches of field as overseer Tamarind advanced on the family. "Well, well, are we all happy here today?" he asked in an air of seemingly neighborly concern.

"No problems," said Marvin Judd. "It's going okay."

Jethro felt a crimson tide rush his face. "He doesn't care," he thought angrily. "Just laughing at us. Wants to get rid of us. I'll show 'em." All of a sudden, he felt real dizzy, feeling the hot searing change in his skin bombarded by UV.

******

Three figures in thick combination wool-canvas overalls and waist length parkas wandered into the mining area. On the left shoulder of each jacket was secured a ringed planet patch with the capital letters "PSG" stitched across the rings. Stenciled One of the figures, a tall black woman carrying a sample box, stepped up to the leader. "What do you think of this, chief?" she grinned, showing her full smile of pearly teeth. She glanced sideways at the young man to her left.

Pushing up a pair of old fashioned horn-rimmed glasses, the leader regarded her. "C'mon Shamika," she laughed, straightening her cap on her dark brown French braided hair. "We're friends, as fellow researchers. You can call me by my first name, and even DeKart over there, too."

"This isn't the Regiment, thank goodness," smiled Denver, nodding in reply. White mist drifted from his breath filter.

"Okay, Denver. But are you sure that's not your last name instead?" As the trio of researchers stood on the crest of the small hill, the head miner trod up wearing his usual orange safety helmet and plastic pullover, complete with standard issue gravity boots. "Reporting for advice, as you all recommended," he said, addressing the girl with the glasses. "How about this report, Lead Scientist?"

Leafing through the pages of the report, she briefly glanced up at him. "Well, Harvy, my teams already planted the seismographs yesterday, and you're bound to experience another earthquake in the next few hours. Better watch it before you proceed to the next level, because you could have a cave-in."

"I recommend special buttressing," advised Denver DeKart, unrolling a set of his celebrated blueprints. This clever structural engineer and geobuilder had solved many a problem for the Planetary Minerals Guild. 

"Don't worry Harvy," reassured the chief scientist. "You're in good hands with us." Taking a rock sample from her pocket, she began to pore over it with the aid of an old fashioned magnifying glass around her neck. "What do you think of this, Shamika?" she murmured to her fellow friend and mineralogist. "Looks to me to be a great vein of ganrite."

"Reeves, Marran!" interrupted Denver. "What's going on over there at that farming complex to the east? I smell smoke!" With one plastic gloved hand he pointed to a small field, gazing through his pair of distance viewers. Taking these from him, the head scientist stared at a distant column of billowing smoke rising from the horizon.

"Shamika," she instructed. "Call up Dr. Cann on your unit. Tell her to meet me at coordinates 90 degrees north by 270 degrees west."

"Another one?" asked Shamika, putting away the rock sample.

"Got that right," responded the lead scientist. "I'm gonna go down to investigate. Denver, stay here and help Harvy. Shamika, could you report back to camp?" Off she bounded down the gravelly slope of the hill, each leap flinging her nearly twenty feet in the air.

"Why ever doesn't she wear her gravity boots like the rest of us?" Harvy asked DeKart.

"She's an individual. Says it takes less energy to do her celebrated running skip than an antigrav transport," shrugged Denver DeKart.

***

Anxious blue eyes gazed intently at a regular pattern of flashing lights on a console. A set of long white fingers gleaming with two gold rings quickly rapped out a code on the keyboard of another panel. Inside his TARDIS, The Doctor absorbed himself in dozens of critical calculations of enormous complexity. Already he had accessed information on the strange protein sample from Sarah Jane Smith. Now he was busy cross-referencing the course programmer with the time space visualizer. His time space machine should then scan regions where the protein existed. That is, he hoped it would. Periodically, the satisfactory locations showed up in blazing green letters on a readout monitor as the TARDIS whizzed on through the Vortex where space and time were one.

Harry Sullivan still lay where he had fallen hours ago. He slowly blinked and moaned, coming to as the haze settled off his brain, and blood pumped through his veins once more to grant his body the oxygen it needed. He had a pounding headache, and he couldn't wait to figure out just WHO had given him the drop. That fool Doctor from UNIT. Even though the Brigadier said he was to be trusted, just WHERE was he now? Laying still he let his eyes wander over his surroundings, and gasped.

At the heart of the hexagonal console, a glass column bobbed up and down as powers circuits in its innards flashed on and off with energy. Through the floor of the flight deck the pulsation hum of flight throbbed under the Doctor's booted feet. The Doctor straightened up from the one panel and stretched. He knew that he was taking no real time at all, but it did seem to him like hours since he had first left Earth. Muscles in the back of his neck felt tense and tight from his concentration. In this incarnation of his multiple life span, he was far more scientifically methodic and serious, but kept amusement in mind. From time to time, his memory still might fail him, as a side effect from his newly revoked exile to Earth by the Time Lords.

Walking over to a nearby cabinet, he massaged his tense lean form into some shape to relax. Opening the doors, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a mirror set in the left door. There it was, his own image before him. The familiar head of wavy silver hair, thick and healthy instead of bald and thinning considering how white it was getting with age. How lined his face was, yet with each wrinkle a facet of exuberant youth was revealed. And the clothing. The ruffled shirt resembling a sixties pop star's gear, worn under a blue vest and elegant ultramarine velvet jacket, with red piping. The top button of his wide collared shirt was done up under a matching blue bow tie beneath his firm chin. Narrow black trousers whose ends were thrust into a tall pair of black leather boots; the only part of the costume in character with his adventurous outdoor spirit.

Sullivan slowly sat up, and watched the Doctor as his back was turned. He quietly rose to his feet, feeling the ache of muscles that were rigid and stiff, and tiptoed across the vast floor towards the Scientific Advisor. Answers were needed and quickly, before he either went mad, or something else out o the ordinary transpired.

"Now LOOK here!" he said angrily, his hand closing on the Doctor's shoulder. "I want some ANSWERS!"

"Ah, Sullivan," the Doctor said as he spun around and gripped Harry's arm in a hold of steel. "I would restrain from physical violence if I were you. you're in NO danger."

"Just WHAT." Harry got out before the Doctor raised his fingers and twisted Harry's arm behind his back to face him.

"I've got precious little time to argue with you," the Doctor shook his head. "Suffice to say now that you've blundered into this, you're going to have to trust me or else find yourself asleep for another dozen hours! I'm trying to help MISS smith, and if your Hippocratic oath means ANYTHING you'll not ask stupid questions and listen to every word I say. because time is precious to all of us now."

"I. how should I even TRUST." he got out.

"Oh don't be dim, old fellow," the Doctor snorted. "I'm going to release you now and no funny business 0or else we go in a boring round again to see the evidence of my Venusian Karate. so will you please stop acting like the lead in a spy novel and kindly refrain from physical assault?"

"Venusian. karate?" Sullivan gasped as the Doctor released him, and brushed his jacket off.

"Quite. The Brigadier entrusted UNIT's strangest cases to me, and I'm rather frustrated that he happened to add a chief medical officer with more action then good sense," he said sternly, his hands on his hips. "Now, can I trust you're not going to ask a lot of fool questions and waste my time?"

"I only have two. if you don't mind," Harry Sullivan rubbed his neck. 

"Good man," said the Doctor. "In answer to your first, this is the TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimensions in space. My time/space ship. And Miss smith, to anticipate your second, is behind that door, quite safe and resting comfortably."

"Right," Sullivan breathed, his blue eyes taking in all the details of a world suddenly gone topsy turvey. "I signed on UNIT right enough expecting the odd business, but this is. rather much!"

"This is nothing,' the Doctor said breezily. The wheezing shudder resounded all around them, and Harry stumbled as they jarred to a halt He just managed to grab the side of the closet to arrest his fall. Past him the Doctor strode, to turn a knob on the console, and reveal a screen behind one of the panels that slid down.

"WE are here," he said. "Good. we've reached the planet of Miss Smith's disease's origin."

"Where exactly?" Sullivan asked, still not believing when he saw a strange view swirl onscreen. "That's rather a good illusion, but you can't mean."

"Are you going to pester me with questions?" the Doctor rolled his eyes. "Or are you going to make yourself useful? I don't have a lot of time."

"But."

"Stay here," the Doctor said firmly as he guided Harry by the arm and indicated the door to the rest of the TARDIS. "Look after Miss Smith. Don't touch ANYTHING and just make SURE she's all right. She's the third room down on the left. I shan't be long."

"Where are you going. Doctor!" Harry asked as he rushed after the Doctor, who turned again.

"Out to find the answers, naturally. Now make yourself useful and watch over Miss Smith. I don't have TIME to waste."

"But Doctor."

"Stay there." he said, grabbing his cloak from the hat stand and pulling it on. He grabbed a leather satchel to one side, and moved over to open the door. 

"You can't be serious." Sullivan laughed as the Doctor turned another knob, and the doors swung open. A blast of cold air hit Sullivan, and he gripped the TARDIS console when he saw what was outside, and more to the point that the Doctor was striding confidently into it.

"I am. Stay there, and Touch NOTHING!" he warned. Sullivan watched numbly as the doors swung closed and felt the blood rush from his body as he collapsed into the nearby Louis XVI chair.

Ch. 2 "Landing"

Dawn hugged the horizon, still suppressed by the ultramarine void of cold stars. Yet already, the now was beginning to melt, swept away quickly by the rushing wind. A wheezing groan echoed in a weird cacophonic harmony across the landscape as an oblong blue box flickered in and out of existence. The very air blurred and twisted in its battle to enter the third dimension.

Atop the box a blue light flashed twice. On the side of the shape, one of a set of double doors opened. Tentatively, a tall fellow with wavy silver hair stepped outside. Momentarily, the Doctor stood still to absorb all the sights and sensations of this undiscovered world. His breath hit the cold air, misting white with each exhalation. Shivering in the chilly atmosphere, he snugly buttoned his plaid opera cloak. Good thing he'd worn the cloak, for this woolen garment lined with rich red silk comfortably held warmth against him.

Already the first few rays of a hot blue giant star, class B, poked over the most distant of the sharp jagged peaks. Gradually it rose in varying strips of viridian green, rose, and cobalt blue. A delight to his hazel eyes. "How like the Fabulous Blue Planet in the Acteon Galaxy," he thought when its intense indigo light flooded the rugged landscape with a vivid blue. High up in the sky, the diamond pinpricks of the stars washed away in the vast green.

Taking his old leather physician's bag in hand, he tried his first few steps. At once his black booted feet seemed to have hidden springs as he found himself bouncing and stumbling over the gravelly ground. "Lower force of gravity," he observed, setting his pace into a modified bunny hop, similar to the Apollo astronaut's moonwalk.

Far on the horizon, The Doctor saw the gently sloping cone of a stratovolcano. He judged that its snowcapped rim must be far higher than any Earth volcano, rising almost seven miles into the sky. Somehow the atmosphere seemed thin and sparse of oxygen. Stopping by a rock, he noticed a type of lichen growing on its surface. Immediately, the Doctor set down his bag and fished for his protein testing kit.

***

"Strange object seen appearing at 6th hour in third quadrant."

"That's an uninhabited area," responded another. Two other privateers looked over his shoulder at a surveillance scanner's output screen.

"Not for long," corrected the first. "Long range audio receptors just picked up the vibrations of footsteps." 

"Infrascanners also detect heat, possibly emitted by a life form."

"Strange how the reading falls in the 60 degree Fahrenheit band..." murmured the first.

"Get a visual spectrum fix on it," instructed the corps leader. For a moment, the privateer monitoring the scanner fiddled with the adjustment controls. Bzzt! Crackle! The next, and all three were gazing intently at a bipedal figure shuffling across the barren landscape.

"Looks human to me," said the first voice. "He's approaching the border of the geoagricult zone next to Silver Lake."

"Report this to Regiment headquarters."

"Will the quotas for this turn be met?" asked Overseer Eulen to the rayon-suited geoagricults.

"Most definitely, sir," reported Marxon. Blue sunlight now blended with pale yellow bathed his simple one-piece work suit. "Field gamma three will overstep the required quota by nearly 30 percent!" he announced with pride.

***

On either side of the Doctor rose nearly perpendicular cliffs. A second yellow sun had since risen in the east, joining the blue giant. With mounting interest, The Doctor noted the long stream of gaseous cloud linking the G star with the B star, like a giant luminous dumbbell. "Typical sharing of stellar mass," he surmised, shading his keen hazel eyes with one gloved hand. So far his tests of the lichens had proved negative. There were yet no signs of any other life forms; no plants, at least none of the chlorophyll leafy variety on Earth. The Doctor began to wonder if his TARDIS had in fact sent him to the wrong planet in this solar system.

Ahead of him, the Doctor spotted a vast shimmering expanse nearly three miles away. "A lake?" he wondered. Just a few good jumps away on this world. Faith renewed, he bounded across the boulder littered plain. With each stride, his long legs carried him nearly thirty feet.

***

Concealed camera sensors sent images onto a portable screen unit. By now, the patrols were keeping close watch on this stranger in the long plaid cloak. It was Corps leader Gwen-es Kwon who now spoke into her radiovox unit. "Spotted stranger approaching water supply... Silver Lake Reservoir. Skirting Delta geoagricult zone." Pfft!

The image of Lieu-tender Konev flickered on the three inch screen of the handheld unit. "Pursue and abduct for inquiry. Regiment informed." Pfft!

"Wonder what his business is here," wondered Gwen-es. "Where's he from in those strange beautiful clothes?"

"Probably an Investor from Earth. He must not interfere with the geoagricult zones, or contaminate the water supply."

"I comply. Terminated 8th time zone." Pftt, Click! Switching onto the "Ready" channel on her rectangular black radiovox, Kwon signalled her patrol.

Whistling cheerfully, The Doctor examined one of the stromatelites with an old fashioned magnifying glass. Looking like green cauliflower wallowing in bubbling seltzer, several colonies populated the shallow water. With the greatest of care, he scraped a small sample of surface stromatelite and transferred it to a small test tube. From a small brown bottle he drew some liquid into an eyedropper, depositing several drops onto the sample. To his delight, the mixture turned yellow. "Eureka!" he gasped, eyes widening. "This may be it!"

"Freeze!" barked a voice. "Turn around slowly, and make no sudden moves."

Turning his head, the Doctor saw three people in shiny plastic uniforms aiming rifles at him. Small packs were strapped to their right shoulders, connected by plastic tubes to black nosepieces. Vapor misted from each mouth at different breathing rates. "Hello gentlemen," he said politely. "But if you don't mind, I'm in the middle of a very important breakthrough." 

An important looking Asian woman, wearing a navy blue suit trimmed with officer's braid, cut him off. "What are you doing in the water reservoir?" Short black hair cropped in wedge style was slicked back under an earflapped beret cap. Her high collared polymer jacket buttoned tight about her sloping shoulders, adorned in shoulder flashes. In one gloved hand she clutched a slim metallic pistol, aimed right at The Doctor. "All Investors are to stay within the Colony!"

"Reservoir?" asked the Doctor, standing up. Then he stared down at his black booted feet halfway immersed in the shallow water. "I beg your pardon ma'am. I'm conducting a very important scientific experiment here."

"Drop your weapons," she continued, no change in her severe young face. "Hands up. Are you aware that Citizens are not permitted to carry weapons?" Her hot inhalations hissed through her nosepiece inhaler. It must be a sort of breathing supplimenter.

Slowly the Doctor raised his hands. He realized that he was still holding the magnifying glass in his left, and the test tube in the other. "Weapons, Miss? It's just a simple magnifying glass and a test tube. Would you mind pointing that pistol the other way? You could hurt someone, you know."

"Out!" commanded the woman sharply. "You are in a lot of trouble stranger."

"Oh, very well," sighed The Doctor, stooping to reach his black leather bag.

"Hold it! Jano, take the man's container and weapons." The Doctor's black leather bag was whisked away by two of the plastic uniformed troopers. It was rather amusing, in spite of being tedious, to have his test tubes and magnifying glass mistaken for weapons and confiscated from him. Red gloved hands on the level with his head, the Doctor marched or rather, hopped out of the lake onto the gravelly beach. "May I say that you chaps have an excellent stock of stromatelites here," he said conversationally. Hopefully his calm approach would assure them of his innocence.

The woman reached for a box adhered to her wide webbed utility belt. The Doctor assumed it must be a type of communication device. "Lieu-tender, this is Corps leader Kwon," she spoke into a speaker in the unit. "We have captured the stranger." Crackle, pfft! For a second she listened. Addressing the Doctor she said, "You are under arrest for tampering with the water supply for Delta geoagricult zone. Also, you have disregarded the Regiment's role of protection by going beyond the Colony's outer perimeters. You are to be abducted and subject to a hearing."

***

"Terraforming may take a few years, and may be difficult," said Marrin to the ensemble before her. "But you have to admit the results can be... well incredible." A gathering of the most important colony leaders were now assembled in the large office of the Regiment leader, to discuss the recent events. Officers of the Regiment wore their fancy dress uniforms woven from real plant fiber instead of synthetics. Even the scientific teams wore their best civilian outfits. 

Already this outspoken leader of the "PSG" team had pushed for the release of antibiotics for the farmers from Terra Two. Now, she was converting the whole meeting into a huge scientific debate. Geoagricult scientists and economists sided with the growing of commercial food additives, while the pure research team led by Marrin advocated a total change in the planet's climate for the colony. Impassively, the chief military governor who ran the colony looked on.

"Isn't this grandiose scheme going to be expensive?" asked Budget Officer Ildense. Always, the frugal spending of profits biased his reasoning.

"You can't always put a price tag on life," responded Marrin with a slight grin on her young face. She turned to the Regiment governor. "My team is offering a chance for the farmer refugees from Terra Two to participate more completely in the Colony life."

"Very touching, Marrin," mused the governor, fingering his thick dark moustache. Multiple rows of ribbons adorned his uniformed chest. "But there are many other... more pressing concerns to be dealt with. Understand, I keep the best interests of everyone in the colony at heart, but the farmers are already just concerned with growing their own subsistence crops now."

"I beg your pardon, leader," apologized Marrin, inclining her head. "I was only suggesting a way for geoagricults and farmers to work together towards a common goal. I had hoped that this terraforming project could unite our Colony."

"Apology accepted," said the Leader. "Have you anything else to say on behalf of your team?" 

"My researchers also report that if research is done by geoagricults into the use of protein producing stromatilites, instead of the rock fungi, not only will a safer amino acid additive be produced, but more oxygen will result!"

Scientific advisor Javrice stood to address Marrin. She made an impressive figure in her aqua uniform, graced with the carbon atom symbol over her left breast. Stiched in metallic threads, the atom motif repeated on both sleeves. "Can you explain that? Why should the geoagricults stop the usage of a method that's been effective for seven generations?"

"Well, I've heard from Earth," chimed in Dr. Cann, Marrin's medical chief and physician. She wore a ceremonial white dress and reflector headband, a costume representing her M.D. status. Gleaming on her left breast was a golden facsimile of a generic cell. Life sciences. "That the strain of amino acid additive produced by your fungus, can in some cases prove toxic if improperly processed. Fungilecine 12, as you call it, is questionable."

"Why should our colony stop its means of livelihood?" demanded Rawshok, the head of geoagriculture. "Based on the few and inconclusive tests performed on some sick laboratory rats in some second rate lab?"

"Ladies, gentlemen!" broke in governor Ussainen. "I am the judge and final word. I require the proper courtesy and respect for meetings. Earth team leader Marrin will refute."

"Javrice, there are naturally occurring stromatelites on this planet," said Marrin as she appealed to the Regiment's scientific advisor. "All they need is water, a little volcanic heat or sunlight, and they make free oxygen and the right protein." Nervously, Marrin fingered her own office pins, a neat little representation of a periodic table opposite the PSG ringed planet logo. 

"Our lichens which we have genetically supplemented yields far more of the basic protein, Marrin. You have forgotten that the stromatelites can seriously deplete the heat protecting carbon dioxide in this planet's thin atmosphere." Javrice said.

"But you don't need to do the harmful processing!"

"Since the fungi also don't need flowing water, they are simpler to cultivate. All they need is a nice volcanic rock full of silicon dioxide, and the help of the natural algae. We harvest the fungi and extract all harmful impurities."

"There is enough water in the frozen lakes. If you tap the geothermal vents..."

"I'm sorry, Marrin," sighed Javrice. "But this idea of using stromatelites is purely speculative and impractical. Get back to your geologic surveys, and let the Regiment handle the industry."

"Our Investors cannot put thier money into such risky schemes," added Ildense. 

Marrin slowly hung her head in discouragement. "Rats," she muttered.

"This meeting is hereby adjourned," announced Leader Ussainen. Bright patterned synthetic fabric swirling, civilians who had attended the meeting bowed their respects to the governor and each other. Shamika patted Marrin on the back and reassured her to keep trying. Once more amongst her cheering fellow researchers, she resolved not to give up so easily. She couldn't help but feel something suspicious was going on.


	3. Chapter 3

"I think sir, that you should keep an eye on that research leader," whispered Ildense to Ussainen. 

"Marrin and her team have had some beneficial ideas for the Colony in the past," said Javrice. She respected Marrin as a fellow scientist.

"That may be," answered the governor. "But she must not gain too much power. I have my hands full of the problems those farmer refugees make. Industry can't be interrupted by mad schemes for `terraforming'."

"I've made those special unilateral trade agreements you ordered," reported Ildense.

"Keep quiet about that!" snapped Ussainen. "That is a secret matter not to be discussed in present company." With a shake of his head, he indicated the other Regiment officers.

Head geoagricult Rawshok dashed forwards. "Sir, one of my subordinates reported to me an urgent manner! There's been an attack on Gamma field!"

***

With interest, The Doctor saw his little "escort" now marched him by multiple fields of large rocks. Rayon suited men and some women walked among the orderly rows, scraping off the layers of a lichen. He'd seen the same sort growing in the uninhabited regions earlier, but this species looked glittery and strangely sinister. By the end of each field stood huge containers resembling garbage truck dumpsters, steaming and rumbling from internal workings. A brigade line of several men and women pushed gravtrucks of ceramic drums. Each dumped a greenish sludge into a bin on one side of the transport. "Fungi farming," muttered the Doctor. "But what an industrial scale. Funny, organized and specified just like leaf cutter ants, and like those ants these people grow fungi."

"Excuse me," he started, tapping one guard on the shoulder. "But what is it you produce in these fields? Your food?"

"What planet are you from?" asked a surprised guard. "Most space travellers know that this Colony's main industry is the production of Presersave, the mainstay ingredient of most nourishment you get nowadays."

"Let's just say I've not been in this part of the galaxy for quite a while."

"Oh, why not explain it to the fellow," suggested one of the geoagricults who had just walked up. The Doctor saw him raise his plastic face shield to converse with Kwon. "Our Colony produces some of the best raw protein--Fungiciline-12-- this side of the spiral arm!"

"Very well, Carver, you tell the man. He'll probably be on the Regiment's hands for awhile anyway," sighed Kwon.

"All right. You see the field in front of you?" started the geoagricult. "That's where we grow the specially engineered lichen. Once the seasoning period is complete, we scrape one layer of the lichen, and dump it into that transport over there that drives to the refinery." With each word, the clear oxygen filter mask over his mouth and nose steamed up with vapor.

"You don't actually use all of the lichen?"

"We separate the algae from the fungi. Then, we remove all harmful impurities with a sillicone formula wash and ferment the protein with a chemical supplement. And voila! You have Fungaciline-12, a major raw protein supplement and preservant."

"Thank you very much for your explanation," grinned the Doctor, glad to be treated like a scientist for the first time that day.

"Incidentally, who are you? Did you come to check up on the progress of our production quotas?" wondered the geoagricult.

"This man was found tampering with the water supply at Silver Lake," interrupted Gwen-es. "We have orders to inter and question him."

"I assure you my interests were solely in the stromatellites growing there," insisted the Doctor. "When I landed here in my spacecraft, I was just dazzled by the unusual life forms."

"One of our patrols spotted you placing chemicals into the water, and wading is not permitted in a sterile water source without aqua boots," added another guard. "That's a crime here."

Frustrated, The Doctor twisted the little gold ring on his smallest left finger. "I'm not an Investor! I'm a scientist!"

***

Several minutes later the party passed by a vastly different field. Smoke rose from the charred ground, and the bodies of several geoagricults lay stiff and cold. For the first time, the Doctor saw Corps Leader Gwen-es Kwon show emotion. Her stern young face melted into horror. "What has happened?" she gasped, halting her patrol. Several other patrols paraded the devastation; one of them approached Gwen-es. 

Meanwhile, the Doctor knelt by one fallen man. Instinctively he removed one glove and slid his fingers into the groove at the man's neck to check for a carotid pulse.

"It... was awful," sobbed geoagricult Marxian to the young Corps Leader Kwon and Lieu-tender Takashima. Supported between the sturdy privateers Jano and Dulles, he heaved each breath with all his remaining strength. Talking seemed near impossible for him, minus his breath supplimenter in the thin atmosphere.

"Did you see something... or someone attack this zone?" asked the Doctor, who had just stood up from examining the deceased geoagricult. 

"I... don't know," gasped Marxian, wheezing with his head thrown forewords. "This doesn't happen to us... the farmers are the ones... glittering plague... shining form..."

"You're having delusions, Marxian," interrupted Gwen-es Kwon hastily. She took a spare oxygen filter pack from her equipment and placed the mouthpiece over Marixian's wide gaping mouth. "Jano, Dulles, take this geoagricult on ahead to dispensary. He's suffering from hysterics." Oxygen hissed in a cylinder as Marxon inhaled the fresh gas.

"Wait, he may be saying something of vital importance!" objected the Doctor, stepping forwards. A prod from the Lieu-tenders's baton sent him jumping back.

"This is none of your affair, sir," said the officer gruffly. "Corps Leader, take him to the Regiment."

***

Trisha Marrin happened to be on her way back to the research camp, when her sixth sense tingled. Halting her skipping stride she paused to listen. Distant humming alerted her of an approaching anti-gravity transport car. She could see the distant walls of the Regiment fortress ahead to the north. A medic transport sped past her, the siren rising then falling in pitch. Marrin usually liked to keep to the high crags in the hillside when she trekked to camp. A scientist needed time alone now and then to postulate. Sudden violent thoughts flooded her head.

Cautiously she peered over a large boulder. Surprised, she spied a tall figure, plaid cloak swirling as he confronted a Regiment guard. He looked nothing like the ultramodern suited people she had encountered, and she half wondered if it could be the scientific advisor she had requested from PSG headquarters on Earth.

"Hey! Wait there!" she yelled hopefully, mind buzzing with excitement. "Hey there! Hello!" With several quick bounds, Marrin dashed down the hillside. Drag scrape, scrape!

Whirling to face her, the Doctor stared. Who was this new stranger in the ultramodern overalls and parka? A certain flicker in her eyes told him that he'd caught her attention, but slid elusively out of his grasp. The girl pulled off her cap and exposed a head of dark brown hair, neatly French braided. Glasses, American accent, sparkling deep brown eyes... "Are you from EARTH? You don't look like one of us. are you the new Scientific Advisor I requested?"

To the privateer, all this excitement resembled an attack. He wasn't all too familiar with the 20th century English that The Doctor and Trisha Marrin conversed rapidly in. Instinctively, he jabbed the Doctor with the end of his baton. "Don't do that!" shouted the Doctor, flinching from the electrical spark. "I'm not some witless creature, you know!"

"Eu, lyof im! Disconitu! Lyof im!" babbled Trisha in fastspeak, a dialect in that time period. As the privateer lunged at the Doctor again, she thrust herself between them.

"I'lde treatmen f elluuterz, aution Research!" barked a new voice from the left. Marrin was shoved rudely aside. His partner grabbed The Doctor, twisting his bony arms behind his back. Quite suddenly, the Time Lord took one step back and hurled that private over his shoulder. He had the distinct advantage of the lesser force of gravity, enabling him to leap and tumble over the heads of two other privateers almost effortlessly. Marrin slammed into the other pair, sending them flying. One privateer managed to elude her and charge for the Doctor. 

"Hai!" barked the Doctor, and thrust two fingers under the privateer's collarbone. "Venusian Aikido, old chap," he explained calmly to the man, who was astonished to find this old fellow virtually immobilizing him with only two fingers of one hand!

Kapwing! Kapweng! Two shots rang out, freezing all action.

Trisha stood beside Corps-leader Gwen-es Kwon, whose slim silver automatic sat in one raised hand. "At ease!"

The Doctor could not believe his sheer luck. He moved forwards and said, "Why yes. I'm Doctor. John Smith. Unfortunately These. regiment people seem to think I'm a threat. but I've got to get help. one of my assistants is ill with a disease. the same that is affection some people in the colony."

"Why did you not SAY that?" asked Gwen Es angrily.

"Because my dear girl you never gave me the chance to say so," the Doctor sniffed.

"What, someone in your crew has the disease?" asked Marrin in surprise. "Then it HAS passed to EARTH."

"Yes. I came FROM earth to examine the disease because some meteorites landed, and my. research UNIT wanted to find out the source."

"This man is a spy," said Gwen Es. "Pay him no mind."

"Can't this violence stop now, Corps Leader," asked Marrin, staring the other woman straight in the eyes. "This man's the scientific advisor I asked to join my team. I requested that the University Science UNIT send s a prestigious scientist from Earth, with broad expertise in a great deal of fields."

"I am aware of your authority, Marrin as a chief scientist at the research camp," answered Gwen-Es. "But this stranger is a military matter. It is said he is perhaps an Investor," she whispered.

"Oh nonsense! He's a scientist!" protested Marrin. "Cut him some slack. He's just curious, and meant no harm whatsoever!" Fixing her brown eyes directly into Gwen-es's, Marrin said, "I'm sure it will be fine if he came back to my camp with me. There'd be no trouble."

Gwen-es blinked for a moment then cleared her throat. "All right, Marrin. But remember, you are responsible for his actions."

"Thank you very much, ma'am," said the Doctor respectfully. Raising his frilly cuffed hand, he saluted her.

"One more thing, Marrin," called Gwen-es Kwon as she watched them skip off. "Get that man a proper pair of gravity boots! You too! He's bouncing up and down like a yo yo!"

"Whatever you say!" hollered Marrin, waving.

The Doctor trotted after her and said, "Thank you very much for your level head, Miss. I am in a hurry, and my assistant's life is in danger."

"Where's your Transwarp capsule?" asked Marrin.

"I may need some help getting her back here. where is your base camp?"

"My transport is over the dune. We can take it to your ship." she pointed out. "I must say I didn't expect someone wearing such interesting clothes."

"I don't like to conform to any stereotype," the Doctor nodded.

"Where are your credentials?" Marrin asked.

"I seem. to have lost them." the Doctor patted his pockets.

"Well that can wait," she said as she took his arm and led him over the rise of the dune. On six treads was perched a cylindrical tube with rounded windows, the vague shape of a sideways peanut butter jar. The Doctor nodded with satisfaction, his intrigue for gadgetry kicking in as he glanced over the broad band dish on top of the front, and the young man who stepped out of the buggy, his breath supplimentor misting in the light of day.

"Doctor Marrin," he gasped. "I was wondering when you'd. who's this?"

"Get ready to leave. This is our new all around Scientific Advisor. you know that general specialist I requested from Earth. we have to go to his capsule. his assistant has the same disease. this could be serious if it's spread to earth," said Marrin.

"Er, I also have a member of my crew who is a medical doctor." said the Doctor, remembering Sullivan. Just how he could explain Harry's presence was suddenly neatly resolved. 

"Doctor Smith, this is Denver Dekarte, our structural engineer. he helped build the domes around the colony, and engineer our instrumentation," said Marrin as the young man opened the door, shaking streaks of blonde out of his eyes. The doctor shook his hand and waited for Marrin to climb in.

"After you," he said gallantly, and she smiled in amusement at this old gallantry.

***

They rounded the curves of the next few dunes, and Marrin glanced at the tall blue box with the flashing light on top. She glanced at the Doctor in confusion, saying, "That doesn't appear to be any design I am familiar with."

"It's a custom model," the Doctor hastily explained. "And the key only opens with my metabolic print."

"He's an individual."

"Do you need help bringing your afflicted teammate?" asked Marrin.

"I'll get Sullivan to help," the Doctor nodded as he climbed out of the door, which hissed with pressure equalization. "Wait here."

"Is he quite sane?" asked Dekart, looking a bit confused as he glanced at the size of the box in relation to everything else.

"Pass me the medikit," she asked, and Dekarte shook his head as he passed it forward to her. The metallic box gleamed with the Red Cross, a centuries old sign for any first aid no matter how modern. Again the airlock hissed as she readied herself and let her boots fall on the surface of the planet." Marrin despite herself stood to watch as he walked over to the unlikely box, and unlocked the door. A few minutes later he came out with an attractive looking man with blue eyes and curly hair, peeking out from underneath a white hat. Gold braid decorated his jacket, under a long black cloak, and between him and the Doctor, they carried a woman wrapped in a fur coat with an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. Her dark brown hair peeked out from under the hood, and her eyes were partly closed. Woolen mittens were on her hands and she wore rather interesting archaic boots. Both the new arrival, who glanced about in confusion as if he were in landing shock at the sight of everyone.

"Hullo there," the man, who must be Sullivan blinked. "Jolly crazy place this is."

"Sullivan, kindly be quiet and leave the talking to me. This is Dr. Marrin, the Research Director of er. er."

"Camp Percival Lowell," she nodded. "Nice to meet you Dr. Sullivan. We could use an extra doctor."

"Ah right," Harry said a bit nervously.

"Let's get her into the buggy, she doesn't look so well," said Dekarte.

"Now hang about you two you don't have to carry me," Sarah Jane Smith protested. "Oh, hullo there. nice to see a woman in charge of things for a change. I'm Sarah Jane Smith."

"The Doctor's stricken assistant?" Marrin asked as Dekarte depressurized the door, and she held out her hand as he climbed up, and reached for Sarah's hand. "Nice to meet you. you're looking rather well for a victim of Sillotoxis toxemia."

"The Doctor cooked up some antidote," Sullivan said. "Probably some broad spectrum."

"Harry, don't bore her," Sarah laughed as she let Marrin help her climb in, and the Doctor and Harry followed behind them. Marrin steadied the slender journalist, helping her to sit down in the rear passenger seat. Next to her the Doctor sat, while Sullivan took a seat directly by the door, and Marrin plunked down next to him.

"That may be so, Sullivan, but it's only temporary," the Doctor said. "I saw that there were others afflicted. can you possibly show me any others."

"Let's go," said Marrin. "You and Dr. Sullivan will want to meet our medical specialist, Dr. Cann."

"Thank you very much," the Doctor said.

***

Wind whistled inside the inner corridors of the lava tube caverns. Large mirrors beamed filtered sunlight into the main living areas of Marrin's camp. Instead of the traditional synthetic tents or domes erected by most geologic survey teams, Trisha's expedition had based themselves in a system of ancient lava tubes. Very little of the unfiltered cosmic rays could penetrate the hundreds of feet of massive silica rock in the high cliffside. 

The Doctor followed Trisha down the dark tunnels streaked with phosphorus. He'd seen the giant solar panels that collected the days blinding radiance, channeled into the receptor cells that served as the camp's heat and light source. "That's Denver's work," she explained proudly. "He always comes up with these great inventions to solve our problems."

Not only did he like the innovative base, but The Doctor really enjoyed seeing Marrin's vast complexes of scientific labs and living quarters. Giant inflatable tunnels held in sufficient air, replenished every few hours by the greenhouse biosphere duct. She'd created a miniature subterranean climate. "Over fifty of us live and work here. About twenty five scientists and all the rest technicians, students, and vital workers."

Dr. Cann stood in the medical wing attached to Trisha's large lab. Other technicians bustled about, testing the blood plasma donated by several camp trainees. On the foam padded chair next to her sat a young girl child. Cann's assistant, Delluka, had tried his best to calm the girl down. "This may stick a bit, but if you're nice and brave, you'll get a surprise." coaxed Dr. Cann. Delluka passed her a hypodermic gun. A phial of precious vaccine sloshed in the handle of the pistol shaped device.

Only for the briefest instant did the end press to the girl's thin suntanned arm. The small girl whimpered and looked pleadingly at Dr. Cann and Delluka. Then, she giggled and smiled.

"Quite a bedside manner you all have there," said Sarah Jane Smith as she entered, helped by Marrin and the Doctor. Passing over to the child, Marrin patted the girl on the top of her dark head. "Here Joy-beth," she smiled, drawing a lovely quartz crystal from her pocket. "For a brave young lady." Squealing with joy, Joy-beth took the gem and trotted to her mother waiting in the passage beyond.

"Look ma! A sparkly!"

"That's the last child," reported Delluka. Then, he noticed a tall strangely dressed man follow Trisha into the medical area.

"Who's this?" he asked.

"Are you Dr. Cann?" Harry Sullivan asked as he held out his hand. 

"Actually I'm Dr. Cann," said the blonde woman, amused. 

"Ah, a lady doctor.. Well, I wasn't exactly expecting one of the fair sex, but it's pleasant to meet a lovely lady that brightens up the dull sickbay," Harry smiled as disarmingly as possible.

Sarah Jane smiled pertly, and said, "Another woman in a rather prominent position. Not bad for the fairer sex."

"Fairer sex?" laughed Dr. Cann. "Haven't heard THAT line except in a museum."

"It's one of many he has," Sarah smiled. Light gleamed off her skin, and Dr. Cann gasped in alarm.

"You have the disease." she shook her head. "But how."

"I was hoping that you and Doctor Sullivan could figure that out," said the Doctor. "I have several samples of an antidote that I synthesized. and it may help the other victims. I saw quite a number of the poor devils having problems in the fields."

"Hello, you must be the chief medical officer, Dr. Cann," said said the fellow, going over to Andreya. "I'm the Doctor."

"Our new general scientific advisor." said Marrin.

"I'm feeling quite all right," Sarah shook her head as Dr. Cann began to examine her.

"This is remarkable. she's the only one so far I've seen so alert with the disease. and these skin grafts."

"Fairly confusing to me also," said Harry, scratching his cheek lightly. "I say you've got quite a setup here. very. modern. well modern compared to where I come from."

"You must have been stationed in the Preserves," said Dr. Cann with appreciation. "I had heard of the living history museums in Europe. and judging from your outfit I'd say the era they were preserving was twentieth century."

"Just about," said Harry, who caught the Doctor's glimpse that told him, "Play along."

"Why don't you two compare notes, and I'll get the Doctor settled in. There's something I want to show him," said Dr. Marrin, taking the Doctor's arm. "If you don't mind. I'd like a word with my team."

"Of course not." said Dr. Marrin as he wandered over to where Sullivan stood next to the examining table that Dr. Cann had insisted Sarah sit down on. Already she was pressing electrodes to Sarah's forehead as the reporter pulled her coat off and shifted into position.

"Doctor what do you want ME to do?" asked Sarah.

"Now you've been told to rest, old thing," said Harry. AT the sound of those words, Sarah winced.

"What did you call me." she said a bit piqued, her hand on her hip.

"Er, old thing," he chuckled. "It's just a joke."

"Sarah Jane, do try to relax. I'm certain that Dr. Cann and Dr. Sullivan have a great deal of work to do. You ARE an exceptional case. and it looks like Dr. Marrin requires my help," the Doctor said dismissively.

"Ah great, he gets all the fun," Sarah shook her head. "You just don't want me in the way."

"Now Sarah, you know that you're still at risk. Besides, you should well stay here with Harry. keep an eye on him." the Doctor whispered in her ear.

"All right," she sighed as Harry scratched his ear and wandered over as Dr. Marrin waited patiently.

"Doctor, this is all a bit beyond me, I'm afraid," Harry protested.

"Well this is your chance to learn a bit about modern medicine," said the doctor. "I think you'd be better used here."

"More like out of the way?" Sarah said ruefully.

"Quite," the Doctor said. "Since you put your foot in it. you'd be well advised to stick to someplace safe. and considering this is the closest to a hospital, at least there is another Doctor here who will keep an eye on you."

"Now Doctor I'm not an idiot. and I AM just about with you," Harry Sullivan protested.

"I'm sure Dr. Cann can use your help. or rather you can learn much from her," said the Doctor. "Now my dear, show me the way to the lab."

Amused, Dr. Marrin let him take her arm and nodded in the direction out of the medlab. "I haven't been called THAT before."

"Doctor now WAIT!" Harry protested.

"It's no good arguing Harry," Sarah sighed. "He's made his mind up. We're in the way, and he wants us to just stay here while HE gets all the interesting bits."

"Dr. Sullivan, that may be your reinactor's uniform, but would you be offended if I fixed you up with a more modern outfit. since we are going to be working together?" asked Dr. Cann, who held a wrapped plastic package to Harry. He glanced at it in surprise, realizing it contained what appeared to be neatly folded cloth, sterile blue in color.

"I say." he glanced at it as she handed it to him. "This. the latest in scrubs I take it?"

"There's a changing room over there," she said. "I do look forward on hearing the latest from Earth. although if you ARE in a reinactor's reserve, I'm sure you must know ALL about medical history."

"I could tell you a few stories," Sullivan sighed with relief as he walked over to where Dr. Cann indicated. Quite forgotten, Sarah Jane was about to get up, but Dr. Cann turned to her.

"Not just yet, young lady," said Dr. Cann. "I need to take your vitals. Someone in such a good condition bears study. and I must know how your Doctor friend synthesized an antidote. and how long it will last. I do hope that you don't mind me monitoring you for a while."

"All right then," Sarah sighed, deciding to make the most of the situation.

***

"Have there been other attacks such as the one in the geoagricult field?" asked the Doctor, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"Yes," said Dr. Marrin slowly.


	4. Chapter 6

The Lines of Fellow Travelers…

Disclaimer: A Sarah/Harry/Fourth Doctor fic… I don't own Harry Sullivan, Sarah Jane Smith or the Doctor, because they belogn to BBC. However the other characters and concepts are mine. Please be easy on me… I've had this on my computer for awhile but not sure where to go with it. Suggestions are welcome!

Thanks!

By Trynia Merin

Rated R for some adult content… consentual male/female sex… should I write more to this or not? Please let me know! R and R thanks!

***

Entangled in the midst of ANOTHER harrowing adventure, Leftenant Harry Sullivan swallowed hard. He, Sarah and the Doctor had landed on Mars Lowell City, in the 22nd century, to find strange starfish creatures were attacking the farmers trying to terraform the land. The Doctor had gotten involved in his usual fashion, trying to infiltrate the Regiment, by saying Sarah was a reporter, which she was, albeit the wrong century. And the Doctor posed as a visiting biologist from earth inspecting the progress of the colony. And he'd sneaked into the Regiment as a new recruit, and met the fabulous creature before him.As he got to know her over the week or so in their covers, he had realized how lovely she was. And to be presented with an offer for dinner, how could he bally refuse? Unfortuatnely he and the Doctor and Sarah had found out that Ussainen, the leader of the Regiment was behind the attacks, to try and force the colonists to adopt his dictatorship. And he as a recruit in the Regiment had gotten personally involved…

He was escorted to the officer's quarters 6a. Instead of the bare utilitarian officer's quarters he'd expected, it came as quite a shock. Dimmed lights gave rise to a soft atmosphere. Candles seemed to sprout from the floor, a thousand twinkling stars in the shadows. Soft music drifted in like dew on morning grass. Perplexed, Harry Sullivan pulled off his cap, running his fingers through his wavy black hair. 

"Harry..." whispered a soft voice. The navy surgeon turned, to fix his eyes upon a slender figure concealed in the dark. Her sweet round face with its slanted eyes glowed with light cream rose flushed in olive. Swirling gracefully about her shapely legs was a diaphanous silver veilskirt. What was hidden made Harry's heart quicken. 

"Gwen-es?" he mouthed, eyebrows lowered in sheer astonishment and doubt. Gone was the harsh sharp angled officer, replaced with a sensual beautiful woman. 

"You see, I can be what you call a woman," she murmured, lightly running manicured fingertips up his left arm. 

"Why are you so afraid to show it?" asked Harry, softly taking her graceful hand. "I would think any woman as ravishing as this would not hesitate or be ashamed of being feminine."

Gwen-es slowly slid into a balloon chair, facing slightly away from him. "I hated what I was, tried not to let them know I was vulnerable."

"A friend, a very good friend of mine once told me being feminine didn't necessarily mean being vulnerable. A mother shows great strength in how she nurtures," said Sullivan, thinking of Sarah Jane Smith as he lay one large hand on her shoulder, and drawing her around to face him. Midnight blackness of her eyes gazed into the gentle blue calm of his. Slowly her dark lashes fluttered over, as her lips parted silently. Harry stroked her smooth flawless cheek, then raised her chin to his lips. They breathed slowly, then their mouths merged as they kissed. Hands ran up and down her smooth back, clothed in silver metallic brocade. She slowly unvelcroed his confining high collared PSG jacket...

***

However the Doctor and Miss Smith had been discovered, and were facing dire circumstances at the hands of the Regiment leader. Captured and facing certain death, the Doctor had requested an old rule, to have one last night in the company of a female of his choosing. And he had chosen Sarah Jane. He hoped by hanging out in the women's quarters with the families, she had gained some hope of escape…

"You, Doctor are a man of substance and class, which I admire," said Ussainen, raising his cylindrical glass of wine. "It's a pity, seeing as you will die from disease in the morning."

"And what of the vaccine?"

"The creatures will themselves die off, and the Regiment will have the vaccine,"

"And you'll merrily trot off as heroes," finished the Doctor grimly.

"But I am not without feelings. A civilized man is entitled to die well, like a gentleman."

"One last meal, eh," replied the Doctor. "To your health sir," he toasted, before sipping from his glass.

Soft pastel lights bathed the rough rocky walls of a suite. Replica art deco chairs covered in red plush furnished the room, sitting on a rich Punjab carpet underfoot. In one corner, a table was set for two people. Standing next to a central room fire was the elegant figure of the Doctor, dressed in his usual bohemian fashion. He calmly watched the flames dancing in the open Pyrex grate, still holding the tall glass of synthetic wine. How in the galaxy did Ussainen get all of these seemingly priceless antiques, yet serve synthetic wine out of what was a plastic cup, practically?

"For tonight I arranged the special company for you, Doctor. As you requested… your last night will be spent in the company of a lovely woman…" 

A nervous Sarah Jane Smith was escorted into the room, clutching a real live white rose. The Doctor looked admiringly at her long soft hair, falling freely over her shoulders. Deep scarlet cloth composed her dress, its Indian bordered skirt sweeping the rich carpeted floor. Dangling about her neck was a small amethyst crystal necklace. Quite courteously she dropped a half curtsy to the exiting Ussainen. "Enjoy your evening well, Doctor," he called. To the Doctor's surprise, one fellow brought in an old fashioned silver icebucket holding several green necked bottles, each end wrapped in gold foil. Bowing elegantly, the Doctor ushered her to the table with one hand.

"What is all this," she whispered.

"A request to a doomed man," he replied, pulling out one chair for her to sit on. "Fine wines and the company of another..." With a resounding pop the plastic cork shot from the mouth of one slender necked green bottle. 

Sarah Jane Smith caught sight of his sudden nod to a hidden photosensor. "Agitation causes an increase in vapor pressure," nodded Sarah. Quietly she watched him pour two portions of a sparkling effervescent liquid. Beside her small hand gleaming with rings lay the rose. Natural beauty sang softly from its downy white petals. 

Raising his slender conical stem glass, he toasted, "To your health, ma'am."

"I leave you together. But know this… you will still die, Doctor. Your life is in my hands…"

***********

Meanwhile as Ussainen left them be, he entered the control room, and overheard their conversation with his security chief, hoping to find out just HOW the doctor knew of his plot, and counter dealings with the Echnos.

"Any moment now and he may divulge that formula," said Javrice impatiently. "Or else that reporter Smith will, with her constant prattling over sillicon DNA." 

"Ah, enjoy life while you can Doctor," leered Ussainen as he spied the two scientist eccentrics over a computer screen.

***

"So intermolecular forces are quite a triviality when one considers the time when all forces were one," chatted the Doctor.

"Speaking of big bangs, life in the twentieth century seems so turbulent," observed Sarah Jane, resting her chin on her raised hands. She gazed reflectively at the small bubbles rising in her champagne glass, her fingers smoothing milky rose petals. "All those technologies drawing together, and advancing so fast."

The Doctor chuckled. "And the British still brew a decent cup of tea, the old fashioned way."

"These things here..." began Sarah Jane. "Candlelight, champagne, and soft lighting are what humans call romantic, you know…"

"Exactly. Which can be a significant advantage to us now." She froze momentarily as his lacy cuffed hand brushed past hers. "Oh, do pardon me," apologized the Doctor, as he reached for her glass. Smiling at him, she twined her own hand about his wrist and delicately lifted his own vessel. In this way, they sipped real champagne from each other's glasses.

***

Gwen-es shifted in Harry's arms, pulling off his turtleneck. His fingers slipped off the straps to her gown. Laying her out, he rested his body on top of her slender one. He desired her, {wished to taste her flesh) nibbling on her neck and ears in a strange earth custom. Ventral sides pressed close together. They buried into each other's oral cavities, gasping desperately to be one with each other...

***

"I discovered that one species of fungi is in fact poison to the echinocillicaids," whispered The Doctor as Sarah, gathering her full skirt about her and sitting down next to him. Having finished a fine dinner, he'd sat down with his feet propped up on the glass-topped coffee table. Simply watching the fire's flickering gleam. 

"Indeed," murmured Sarah Jane, as the Doctor, resting one long arm across the back of the sofa behind her head. "But those creatures who attacked the fields..."

"I'd hypothesized they were the larval stage... apparently polymorphism exists in spite of a brittle silica structure,"

Both glanced quickly at the camera. Sarah shivered next to him. One small hand rested lightly on his tweed jacket, as she lay her dark head on his shoulder. "A mobile larval stage resembling bipeds, as Loewenholk puts it..." 

Gently the Doctor caressed her right cheek with his long white fingertips. "Amazing creatures, they resemble the phyla Echinodermata on earth... with the most interesting and silly body structures..." Sarah Jane shivered, and fingered the bristly sideburns before his left ear. "And the most interesting sense of touch..." 

"Those marine earth creatures starve for oxygen, I hear,"

Whispered Sarah Jane. She stared into his beautiful blue eyes, hearts pounding. 

"They breathe through dermal bronchia..." His large, nearly aquiline nose almost brushed against her upturned one. 

"What is it like to not breath so often?" 

"One scientific way to find out," he murmured. Slowly their lips touched... experimentally. He felt her warm breathing form slide into his arms. Peering through his eyelashes he saw her gasping for breath. His hands rubbed her shoulders, kneading out the knots in her muscle fibers. "Mph, and another thing to remember, is that some may be on our side," he added, with a slight smile. "Are you frightened, Sarah," he asked her, holding the sturdy Sarah Jane at arms length.

"What you just did... I scarce remembered how that went... no one has caused me such a headrace since..." Her eyes dropped in shame as she recalled some fleeting encounter on earth. 

***

Gwen-es shifted out from under Harry Sullivan, sliding between near satin bedclothes. The strange wet sensation... she'd not felt for so long. His coarse chest hair and sweating body that had sat on her hips.... And the red marks on her neck. A queer hot shaky sensation jittered her. Yet his strong arm drew her down to him once again, in the buoyant waterbed. 

***

Carefully, the Doctor drew Sarah Jane onto his lap. The warmth of her body heat and weight rested gently there. He was an odd fellow, hair silvery white, but his charming smile and English mannerisms made him seem like a wide eyed child. Heat radiating from the fire warmed their fronts as they sat cuddled together on the buoyant sofa. "I can still taste that champagne..." she commented, covering her mouth with one hand. 

"A precious little wine, after my own heart," he murmured, smacking his lips and chuckling. Slowly he sank across the horizontal axis of the soft sofa, lying lower and lower. The young reporter from 1980 rested across his chest, pressing her young lips to both his cheeks with vigor and strength. Just playing the part? Or was he in fact not so high minded as to really feel romance? Her heart dared hope that he would seize this opportunity to in fact see how much she wanted this.

***

"I've seen enough," announced Ussainen. "Check up on them."

***

Once more he was on top, straddling her slender hips and thrusting himself into her... devouring her physical form as she cried out. "This isn't working, old gel, I do apologize," grunted Sullivan in irritation. 

"Please, don't try so hard," whimpered Gwenn-es, nursing her aching hips. "Let me try." She forced him onto his side. Nearly frictionless sheets made the couple slide out of the bed as they rolled over. A bang knocked the breath from Harry as Gwenn-es landed right on top of him, this time wrapping thighs and calves tightly around him. Instantly, tension broke from his mouth in a climactic rushing gasp as she squeezed hard her legs and arms. 

***

Sarah Jane straddled the small of the Doctor's back, gently massaging the stiffness from his latissimus dorsi. All he wore was his white shirt, plaid vest and black trousers with suspenders, and lay with his chin resting across his folded arms. "A bit to the left... ah yes that's excellent! Vintage... mmmph." The soothing pressure of Sarah 's fingers released each little knot. "This is nice," commented Smith as she continued to knead one particular knot from his trapezium. "I must say, you're just muscle and bone."

The Doctor sighed and stretched carefully. "Lovely Sarah Jane. All along and you never mentioned you had a these talents... Are you certain you didn't take classes?" Warmth from the fire combined with soporific champagne deliciously washed his senses. Suddenly he felt Sarah Jane tense still on his back. "What's the matter?" he asked, turning his head around as far as he could without breaking his neck. 

"Shh Doctor, I hear someone's coming..."

He gently eased out from his position and pulled on his jacket again. Heavy boots clomped down the halls, as Javrice and Illdense approached the guest chamber. 

"Plan b!" cried the Doctor. Rapidly the Doctor stripped off his scarf jacket and vest, tossing them to the floor. Eyes wide with fright, Sarah Jane struggled at the lacing to her dress. Trying her best, Sarah Jane Smith got most of her skirt off, but still fumbled with the massive crinoline slips. Shaking hands helped her as well as they could.

"I'll bet anything they're exchanging formulas just now," predicted Javrice. "I know that Doctor fellow is a sly one."

Tumbling rapidly into the large bed they scrambled under the sheets. "What will they do to us," gasped Sarah Jane, shaking all over. "If they heard us nattering on about what's REALLY at the bottom of this!"

"Relax Sarah. It will be fine, I assure you," reassured the Doctor, his own voice nearly quavering. Footsteps sounded closer outside, as the Doctor drew Sarah Jane into his arms, pulling the sheets far up around them. "Just pretend you're sitting on my knee and keep calm. I promise you I won't do anything to hurt you... or make you ashamed." They lay on their sides, facing one another.

Sarah hesitated. "Go on, put your arms around me," urged the Doctor. "That's it, now. Breathe deep, and relax, that's it." He felt her stiffening in fear and near terror, but she tried her best to play the part. A strange new sensation washed over her as she lay close to his 60-degree body temperature. Shivering in near conniption, she pressed her mouth into his. Strength and sensitivity resided in his pursed lips as he unselfishly returned the gesture. "Mph, yes that's it..." she heard him mutter softly. "We'll just be nice and gentle..."

"Doctor, I had no idea you knew about this sort of thing…" she murmured.

"I have observed such behaviors," he said with a twinkle in his blue eyes as Sarah dared run her hand through the tangle of soft brown curls.

"Feel my hair too it won't hurt," suggested Sarah, finally relaxing enough to assume a comfortable position in the Doctor's strong and rather bony arms. His fingers accordingly ran through her long thick hair. Already he pulled at his floppy cravat with one hand, until she had gently and simply untied the knot and unbuttoned his collar. Strange how this white shirt was fastened; a zipper ran up half the front. Once it reached the top, a fold over flap buttoned with two small buttons, covering the front of his neck. 

Her bare arms and legs slipped against the cool silk of the surrounding sheets. Kiss after kiss she implanted on his mouth and cheeks, drinking in each gentle firmness of his own. Her tongue slid against his, tasting the sweet champagne lingering in his saliva... strange how this didn't seem revolting now. The Doctor grunted suddenly, wriggling fiercely. "What's wrong," she asked, still sitting on his knee. 

"These wretched suspenders are binding my shoulders, that's what Sarah," he complained. "Try getting them off, will you?" Bright light nearly blinded her. Drawing in her breath, she pressed herself close to his warmth, burying her face in his shoulder. Her legs wrapped about his waist as he shifted onto his back for a change. Desperately she sought those last shreds of security in his arms. To the Doctor, it seemed like a renewed embrace, and accordingly he brushed his mouth to hers in his usual gracious way. He felt her fingers digging into his silvery hair as she showered his face with kisses. Three silhouettes in the doorway glared at them. "Oi you lot! Hey, aren't we entitled to privacy?" cried Sarah. In one hand she clutched the Doctor's suspenders. Chilly air hit her bare protruding arm.

"Sorry to disturb you Doctor, but we're checking for suspicious behavior."

"Do you mind?" shouted the Doctor angrily, tingeing his voice with exasperation. "I'm in the middle of something important."

"Nothing suspicious here sir," laughed one of the privateers.

"I wonder," muttered another. Sarah Jane shrieked as one of the privateers whipped off the sheets covering her. Desperately she scrambled to hide from their filthy glares.

"None of that now!" snapped the Doctor in anger. Spreading himself over her, he concealed her form from the gawking privateers. They were a bit surprised to see that he still wore his dark trousers and white shirt!

"Isn't she rather what we didn't figure for his taste, sir?" the privateer asked. "And wouldn't he get hot still wearing all those clothes?"

"Flapdoodle, Let me remind you I'm fit, all systems go for a man of 745!" retorted the Doctor, sniffing. He tried his best to evenly distribute his weight over the trembling reported as he pulled the sheets around them again. "If you've quite finished meddling into our private affairs, I have a mind to complain about your vulgar minds and impudence to Sarah Jane. Who happens to be rather mortified by your comments…" 

"I would've made sure I pulled more off her," said another, matter of factly. 

"Sod off you lot! A woman is to be respected!" burst out Sarah Jane in cold fury, nearly catapulting the Doc off her as she leapt up. She would have torn their insides out if she could. "You nasty chauvinist wretches, who see women as only mere slaves to your sleazy whims!" She quivered with the fiery anger that burned her innards, held back solely by the Doctor's restraining arm.

"Relax my dear, they're not worth it," soothed the Doctor, depositing a kiss on her forehead. His shock of curly brown hair was fluffed into disarray. Blankets fell from the Time lord as he sat up, his sweaty half-buttoned bohemian shirt sticking to his chest and arms, and held Sarah Jane close to him. She wore the soft silk slip from her fancy dress, and glared near hatred from her dark eyes at the leering privateers.

"Nothing unusual here, sir," said the corps leader. "Leave the strange fellow be. It's obvious that he's no different than any of us. Good luck," he winked at the irate Doctor. 

"Got quite a spirited lass there. Good choice."

Sarah Jane couldn't hold back the angry steamed tears any longer. Burying her face in his shoulder, she sobbed quietly in great depression. Gently the Doctor held her and tried his best to comfort his friend. All he could do was to hold her and say, "It's alright... hush, don't cry." He nearly hated himself, but was relived that they understood. "This relationship they call loving must be terrible… am I correct in assuming that you've had a rather nasty experience in the past?" 

"That's the human mind, or one example of it. Take a mere basic function of life, and they wrap sophisticated rituals and connotations around it. Some fellows are unwell when it comes to attitude, like those men," Sarah gritted. "And it seems those sods are just the same here, even WORSE… are treated as chattels, just another commodity to posses and rule, as if they were a bottle of rare wine, or a breed of cattle," pointed out Sarah, who dabbed her eyes with the Doctor's handkerchief as he stroked her face and gently shushed her. 

"I'm sorry my dear, if this hurt you," he apologized, placing an arm around her shoulders and staring into the darkness. "Those humans can be so easily fooled. But I assure you this thing of human romance is not meant to be embarrassing and painful. At least I HOPE not…."

"What an experiment. But it wasn't all that terrible. Nothing happened that you didn't already predict, and you and I respect each other. I value that," Sarah ventured. Waves of good old-fashioned fatigue washed into her mind, and she slowly settled down into the bed once more.

"Thank you, and Sarah Jane, I rather enjoyed it… we must… find a time… to explore this… a bit more…" he whispered, laying on his left side facing her. Gently he stroked her cheek. 

"Without nosy parkers," she added. "Doctor… I don't regret it… it's just one lousy thing can spoil the whole lot…"

"I may be a Time Lord, but I'm not TOTALLY dim when it comes to this… sort of thing," the Doctor puffed up a bit of his hair that fell into his blue eyes as he tucked Sarah's dark hair behind her petite ears. "And when we were… engaged in… the distraction… I sensed shame, and fear… you care to talk about it…"

"It's really… nothing Doctor," she whispered, sighing about how on this alien planet they'd blundered into, she would be tempted to bare her soul about how she'd been ill used by some fools in the past.

"It is to me. Best friends, right?" he asked.

"When I was studying journalism there was this editor bloke, who was always giving me the women's angle stuff," Sarah sighed as the Doctor leaned up on his elbow to listen. "And well… I remember him finally listening to my complaining about getting something with more MEAT to it… and well… he invited poor innocent little me to come toddling over for dinner… one night for some new 'ideas'… about how I could help improve the magazine…"

"Sarah, what happened?" the Doctor asked as he gently pierced her gaze, with his blue eyes that seemed to peel back the layers of her soul. The grin had faded to a serious stare as she haltingly told him of Bruce Barnham. Her body tensed and the Doctor suddenly realized with his slight reading of telepathy that it was the reason for her shyness, her hesitation, other then crossing some line that Time Lords weren't supposed to step over.

"It's silly rather. There I was, all thinking that I could finally pack it in and get the blighter to listen to me," Sarah said, her lips twisting into a sarcastic half smile, although her dark eyes glistened with tears. "And there's wine, and music and all sorts of niceties, and what do I do… I let some MAN get close to me and it's all I can do to get the sod off of me…"

"Sarah…" the Doctor sighed. "Why are you thinking it's SILLY? I'm guessing he wanted something you weren't willing to give…"

"Doctor, human men can be such BEASTS… I said no, and next thing I was up against the wall…. And… his hands were all but pawing me… but I just… I just froze…"

"Please tell me," the Doctor implored, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. "Unless it's too traumatic…"

"When I finally got my wits about me again," Sarah continued, her chin wobbling as she hesitated, and her voice slurred with sobs. "He'd all but… torn my dress, for his troubles, and I barely managed to knee him in a rather PAINFUL spot… and scream bloody murder as I tried to get out of there…"

"But you did…"

"I can still feel his slimy hands on me,' Sarah winced. "It took a LONG time to even TRUST any chap on a date. And there you have it…" she finished, trying to put a brave smile on. "And then it was Aunt Lavinia's self defense courses and a few hundred quid on therapy, and nobody would ever take advantage of me again…"

"I'm sorry Sarah," the Doctor said, stroking her cheek. "You shouldn't blame yourself for that idiot's stupidity… or blame yourself for a simple physiological response… fight or flight… it's a basic human instinct…"

"Doctor, don't you get it I FROZE! I'm supposed to be a journalist… a professional… I was a nanna for getting into that fix in the first place…" Sarah said angrily, biting her lip and turning away.

"Waffle, waffle, waffle! Don't be ridiculous," the Doctor sighed as he shook his head. "Give yourself some credit. You are after all far beyond that… and you don't deserve to emotionally wallow in that. It's not like you Sarah…"

"We all have our secrets, Doctor," she sighed.

"I didn't… take advantage of you, did I?" he asked slowly. "In our… diversion?"

"Oh Doctor, of course not," she chucked, and sighed as she turned over. "I suppose, we're such good friends because there IS no tension… and well… tonight…the lines got blurred…"

"I do apologize," the Doctor said.

"The truth was… I rather liked it. Because I know, you'd never hurt me…" Sarah whispered.

"I never would. You're my best friend, got it?" the Doctor smiled.

"Quite… friends," Sarah bit her lip.

"But you want to cross that line…"

"I know what you're going to say… Time Lords are above romantic twaddle…"

"You DO know I renounced their society," the Doctor said slowly. "And well, perhaps I never wanted to cause emotional harm to my friends… the female companions… for they always had deep needs, hurting in their lives. I never thought myself even considering such a… relationship with any of them, or of my own species…"

"Are you telling me Time Lords are found under some cosmic gooseberry bush?" Sarah Jane laughed.

"Gallifreyans reproduce, Time Lords are made. And well, when you are out observing and trying to keep your hands lily white… you can't afford to get caught up in something messy like a romantic entanglement," the Doctor said slowly. "And if two Time Lords, or two gallifreyans want to reproduce, they simply combine their DNA into one recombinant batch, and a child is produced in a rather large nursery. Gallifreyan nursemaids raise IT for a time… and then given the proper tests to determine its curriculum…" the Doctor sighed.

"So no sex please, we're Time Lords?" she joked weakly.

"Rather," he sighed. "But rules were made to be broken. And well, there WERE some exceptions…"

"You knew that first hand?"

"Yes," the Doctor nodded, with a far-off look. "A long time ago… at the Academy some of us got some idea about reproducing the old fashioned way… and you can imagine how THAT went over…"

"Probably threw the high council into fits?" Sarah laughed.

"Let's just say, there ARE things we can learn from 'less advanced races," The Doctor couldn't resist teasing, and Sarah jabbed him in the ribs.

"Ooh aren't YOU in for a scragging for that," she laughed, suddenly loosing the tension in her body. They lay down, Sarah still in her slip, and the Doctor in his trousers and shirtsleeves.

"So… where does this leave us…" she asked.

"Crossing a line, or not," the Doctor said slowly. "There aren't many I would. Life is so fleeting… but it's not outside the realm of possibility…"

"I'm very glad to hear that," she said, choking a bit.

"But even if they are… explored," the Doctor said. "We will always be friends. Fellow Travelers. And I would always make certain no harm comes to you… advertantly…"

"There's always time, Doctor, to coin a phrase…" she chuckled. "And right now, I'm very… touched… that you'd… open yourself up to… such a possibility…"

"In the future," the Doctor. "Even though to me, past, present and future are one…"

"Heh," Sarah laughed as they shifted to get comfortable, and he drew the blanket up over her. Sarah nodded and simply let herself curl up next to him. The Doctor was unsure if her lack of an answer meant she wanted him to explore 'romance' or simply bask in friendship. For now, he chose their companionship, and for Sarah it was enough as she felt his arm around her, and the coolness of his body and the sound of his hearts under her ear as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

The Doctor continued to watch her in his sleep, even after he turned out the light, and new the morning would bring certain danger. He had to figure out a way to get Harry and Sarah off this planet and back to the TARDIS. And he knew that with a companion like Sarah Jane Smith, it seemed a simpler task indeed.

"That's it. Just relax and try to sleep, now."


End file.
